Burn Bright
by FrankAndGerardOMG
Summary: Two band members of My Chemical Romance find themselves trapped in a burning hotel room and it's a race against time to survive.


**I don't own them! (Product of boredom and music.) Based around Frank and Gerard. Could be viewed as as slight Gerard!whump. Idk. :p (Some Mikey and Ray parts too!) Even though it seems implied, it is NOT Frerard or Rikey.**

Chapter 1

"It's pretty bright," Mikey Way said shortly, the first one to walk into the reception area. They were greeted by a sight of a bustling floor, with a small queue by the desk and people squashing to fit in the elevator with suitcases. Ray Toro, Gerard Way and Frank Iero followed, each toting a small amount of personal luggage. Gerard looked at the crowd then back at the others. He decided to be extremely helpful. He shrugged.  
"What now?" Frank asked, voicing all of their thoughts. Ray tried unsuccessfully to get the attention of employees who were rushing around until he spotted a gap. He hurried through immediately, the others hastily following. The woman behind the desk looked startled at such sudden attention. She blinked behind small glasses like a startled rabbit before recovering herself and smiling at the four.  
"I presume you are the band that reserved rooms 206 and 207?" she asked. The three all looked at Gerard, who stared back, put on the spot. He began to shrug again before stopping himself and nodding uncertainly.  
"Yeah, we are," he replied, relieved to see the others look back at the woman. She retrieved their keycards and the band took their luggage to an elevator. The doors opened and people flooded out, leaving the compartment empty. The four got in and pressed the button for the third floor. Just as the doors were closing a teenage girl rushed in, gasping breathlessly.  
She gave a nod of greeting to the four males before facing the doors neutrally. She had boyish brown hair with a puffy fringe.  
"I'm Libbi. Room service," she explained with a grin at their quizzical looks. "Second day, I don't wanna be late!"  
The band found that she stayed behind when they exited at their floor; she was possibly waiting for the fourth or fifth. She waved and gave a cheerful, 'Ciao!' as the doors hissed shut.  
Room 206 and 207 were similarly spacious, with two plush but simply single beds and a large bathroom adjoined to each room; the band split into two automatically, Frank going with Gerard and Ray going with Mikey.  
As Gerard put his bags on the bed he had chosen, he turned to see Frank flopping with a heavy sigh onto his bed. The dark haired guitarist turned his head and grinned.  
"Hey, we're reviving Frerard-" he began to say.  
"Don't," Gerard cut in with a smile. Frank rolled his eyes and bounced back up, unloading his few possessions.  
"Gee, don't be such a Killjoy," he shot back with a playful grin, emphasising the last word; at this, Gerard laughed. They both quietness down for a while. An hour later Mikey poked his head round the door and motioned with a thumb backwards.  
"We're wanted," he explained briefly before disappearing.  
Frank looked over. Gerard had fallen asleep propped up in his bed, a smouldering cigarette slowly trickling ash into the ashtray resting by him.  
He moved over to the bed and took the cigarette and moved it to the side with the glass tray. Gerard's red hair was strewn over his face like a vulnerable child, which brought a smile to Frank's face. He brought out a marker pen; he was a prankster, after all.  
Frank then paused. He didn't really want to make Gerard look like a complete asshat in front of everyone. He capped the pen and woke Gerard, the two following Mikey.  
They didn't see the ashes fall from the tray, hot against the curtain.

LATER

Hours later, Frank awoke to find his head spinning and his breathing shallow. The first thing he saw was orange.  
Nothing had been orange in the room when they'd arrived.  
His eyes snapped open and his ears finally registered the roar as the flames steadily consumed the room. Gerard was still curled up on the bed, asleep. Frank started and swore loudly.  
Carbon monoxide. It was odourless, colourless. Even now he was breathing it; he could have been breathing it for hours. And here he was, sitting in a burning room, dithering.  
He lunged forwards like he'd once done into Bob's bunk. He remembered having his face mashed into the side by an annoyed Bob. He swiftly roused Gerard, desperate to wake him.  
Gerard awoke abruptly and saw the fire. He silently turned to face Frank, one side of his face lit up by the hungry red flames.  
"Fire," Frank mouthed, as Gerard was too dumbstruck. The heat was almost unbearable. Frank shielded his face and moved them both away from the death. Gerard seemed stunned by the sudden horror.  
"We're screwed!" Frank exclaimed. He began to shout for help, bashing the walls. The door was half consumed by flames already and it was spreading. Fast.

MEANWHILE

Mikey sat up. Had he heard something? It sounded like someone crying out. Ray slept on in his bed, oblivious.  
He shrugged, assuming it was just sleep wearing off. Then he heard it again and there was no mistaking who's voice it was.  
It was Frank, shouting for help. A fist hitting the wall. And an odd, muffled roar.  
Mikey leapt up and shook Ray roughly. The guitarist groaned and turned to stare blearily at Mikey. The bassist seemed desperate. He sat up and rubbed his eye before looking around in the darkness.  
"What is it, dude?" he murmured. Mikey seized his shoulders.  
"Listen," he said urgently. Ray cocked his head. And blanched.

During this, Frank was trying to escape.

"My head hurts," Gerard moaned, the most words he'd said since waking up. He swayed slightly from where he and Frank were, looking nauseous. Frank himself was feeling dizzy, and his breathing was short. The two were getting more breathless and this alarmed Frank. The flames were eating up their remaining supply of oxygen and now the carbon monoxide poisoning could be taking hold.

He was jolted back to reality as Gerard coughed violently before stumbling and half falling, landing on his knees. His red hair was lank from sweat and the heat. Frank felt his own hair crisp from the fire as he crouched and tried to drag his friend up.  
Smoke swirled around them, thick and evil. Frank screwed his eyes shut and clung to the wall, trying to remain same.  
A voice reached him, but Frank shook his head. It hurt and he winced. The voice was a figment of his imagination; a sound created by his mind as it was deprived of oxygen as the hemoglobin of his red blood cells was taken over by the carbon monoxide.  
Gerard's eyelids flickered open and moved to Frank. His breathing was shallow and quick from lack of oxygen. Delirium flickered behind his hazel eyes and his arm gave an odd spasm. He stared blindly past the fire to fix his sight on Frank's face.  
"Mikey," he choked out. He reached, hands knocking Frank's shoulders until he gripped on, painfully tight. He repeated his brother's name several times frantically.  
"There is no Mikey," Frank told him softly. .  
Then he heard it. A voice- no, two. Shouting their names. Ray and Mikey!  
He stood and shouted back but his voice was drowned out by the roar of the fire. He tried to step forwards but found himself stumbling into the wall. Frank slid down it before blinking in confusion and heaving himself back up. Every movement was effort and he was struggling with coordination. Fear began to take hold of his smoke-drunk mind.  
Gerard tripped next to him and caught hold of Frank's arm; the guitarist could feel his pulse, beating abnormally fast.  
A sudden stabbing agony hit his chest and Frank doubled over, feeling the severe pain tingle begin in his arms and neck too. Gerard's palms hit the wall and he said something incoherent about the sensation of everything whirling, making him feel sick. Then there was a muted thud. Frank glanced up to see Gerard falling down the wall, like he had done. His eyes were half-closed and he didn't seem to register it when he was shaken. Ready to accept that all was lost, Frank slumped down next to his unconscious friend.  
The last thing he saw was the door blast open. A fire extinguisher began to devour up the flames and Mikey and Ray come running towards him and Gerard.

SOMETIME LATER

Frank's eyes flickered open. He focused on Ray, who was stood talking to a doctor. He turned and noticed Frank's eyes were open. The afro'd guitarist gave a weak smile.  
"You're awake," he began. Frank's mind was elsewhere.  
"Where's Gerard?" he demanded, sitting upright. He winced as his arm shook before it collapsed under his weight. On his other side, the doctor tried to support him. Frank shook him off.  
"I need to see Gerard," he repeated, swinging his legs out of the hospital bed, regardless of how much smoke he had inhaled and how much his arm was burnt.  
As the doctor protested and attempted to soothe him he got an elbow in his sternum as Frank struggled out of the bed and pushed past Ray. He staggered forwards before he was caught onto.  
"Gerard-" he began. Someone supported him, someone with bright red hair. Frank looked through his black fringe to see Gerard stare at him, burns bandaged underneath his clothes. He was silenced in surprise.  
"Frank?" Gerard asked, confused.  
"Gee?"  
Frank couldn't believe his eyes. Mikey had aided Gerard in limping forwards. Ray commented something witty and he laughed, albeit flatly. Frank was focused on Gerard. He was okay.  
He was alive.  
It had all paid off. From the way Ray and the doctor had reacted he had expected the worse; at the least, for Gerard to be unconscious with an oxygen mask. But, no, he was up and walking. He was alive- Frank couldn't express his relief enough.  
"I think he's happy to see you," Mikey said with a smile to his brother, who grinned. He gently flicked the guitarist's temple.  
"Hey, Frankie. 'Sup?" he asked. Frank gaped silently. They all laughed at his fish impression while Ray dismissed the doctor.

A WEEK LATER

The nightmares returned every night. Gerard, on fire in front of Frank, crying that it was all his fault.

He was trying to move, to find something to put the flames out, as Gerard stood burning. In reality, Frank was twitching in his sleep while Gerard was trying to wake him up.  
They had been allocated to a different hotel after the other one was temporarily closed from the fire. It had been a week and Frank had had the dream every single night.  
He sat bolt upright, sweating and panting as if he had run a marathon. The first thing he registered was Gerard, coming back with a glass of water. It was the best remedy he could find at one in the morning.  
He brushed his red hair back and sighed as Frank sipped the water gingerly. He began to say something-

Frank woke up. He ran a hand across his face, exhausted.  
It had all been a dream. He was tangled up in his sheets, roasting. That must have induced the nightmare about the fire.  
He could hear Gerard's steady breathing and the steady roar of the air conditioning unit. Everything was normal.  
Sitting up, Frank opened his blearily and yawned. The first thing he saw was orange.  
Nothing had been orange in the room when they'd arrived.


End file.
